


Poster Boy

by AndiMackmeetsHeathers



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fans, Fluff, M/M, Random & Short, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:21:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiMackmeetsHeathers/pseuds/AndiMackmeetsHeathers
Summary: Yuuri becomes embarrassed when Viktor discovers his posters of him, but is in for a pleasant surprise when it turns out that he is not the only one with a fan...
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 10
Kudos: 57





	Poster Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I hope you like it! Stay safe and have a great day! Xx

“Yuuri, let’s sleep together!” Viktor called out. Yuuri knew that he was simply attempting to foster a foundation of trust in their relationship with each other, but this was too much, too fast. His childhood idol had just turned up to his house, naked, and revealed that he was going to coach him-it was insanity. Was he dreaming? When it came to this situation, he had a distinct feeling he was. Yet, logically speaking, he knew otherwise. How had this happened to him? It didn’t feel real.

He refused, but Viktor, in true Viktor Nikiforov fashion, was persistent and stubborn in his request.

“Viktor, no!” Yuuri protested from behind the door.

“But Yuuri…”

He could practically hear his pout and sighed wearily. “What?”

“It’ll help us bond and trust each other-I just want to get to know who you are.” Why, though? It didn’t make any sense to him at all. Why him, specifically? What had he done that was so great, aside from the video he’d seen?

“Why?”

Viktor’s reply was instant. “Because I’m your coach!”

He couldn’t dispute that, odd as it was. “Okay, fine, give me two seconds!” he shouted, tearing the posters of Viktor hanging up on the walls down at lightning speed and grabbing the photo of him that sat on his desk and shoving it all under his bed hastily. Viktor knocked again.

“Yuuri, let me in!”

Checking that there was no pictures or posters or anything remotely associated with the figure skater left in his room, he slowly opened the door. Makkachin jumped on to his chest instantly, licking his face. He fell back in surprise, laughing, his glasses askew. Viktor stepped past them and surveyed Yuuri’s room with great interest.

“Sorry that it isn’t the tidiest room…” he began, not meeting Viktor in the eye. I can clean it up. I’ll just set up the water bed right now, it’s for unexpected guests. Sorry that I couldn’t get you a more comfortable bed or anything.”

Viktor waved his apologies off with a hearty laugh and a cheery smile, however. “Yuuri, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, I’m just happy to be spending time bonding with you as your coach.” Right. His coach. It still didn’t register, in his mind. “Besides, it’s a nice room. It seems comfortable, lived in.”

Huh. That’s exactly how he’d describe it himself. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Viktor responded, greeting him with a blinding smile that rendered him speechless. It took him a few seconds to remember that he needed to go and get Viktor’s bed.

“So, uh, I’ll go and get your bed for you now, then…” he muttered, stood there dithering awkwardly.

Viktor nodded, clutching Makkachin close to him. “Okay!”

Ten minutes later, Viktor’s bed was all made up and set up properly. He’d been watching Yuuri with keen interest, a mischievous glint in his eye that Yuuri couldn’t explain.

“Is that alright for you, Viktor?” Yuuri checked, uncertainly. Viktor nodded.

“Yes, I’m more than happy here, don’t you worry about me,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. He tested out his new bed, finding it perfectly comfortable. Makkachin lay across him, her tail waggling. He smiled up at the man through his long eyelashes, his eyes bright with passion. “By the way, did anyone ever tell you that you should go into modelling one day?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. He genuinely could not believe what he was hearing.

“What?!”

“What?” Viktor repeated, giggling, putting on an act. This was going to get nowhere.

Yuuri sighed. “Never mind.” He paused, letting silence fill up the room. “It’s getting late now. We should probably get to bed soon.”

Viktor pulled his covers over himself, readying himself to rest. Makkachin shut her eyes, so he stroked her. For a split second, he could swear he noticed something poking out from under Yuuri’s bed out of the corner of his eye, but he shook it off. It was probably nothing, after all.

“Goodnight, Yuuri,” he called out into the darkness, after a minute or so.

“Goodnight, Viktor,” Yuuri mumbled, sounding half-asleep already.

“Sleep well!”

Yuuri’s response was awkward and slightly delayed, but sweet nonetheless. “You too, Viktor.”

Before he knew it, Viktor fell into a slumber, awaking with a start several hours later. Groaning, he shuffled to the bathroom, only realising that he’d left the thin strip of light being emitted from the room behind him upon his return to Yuuri’s bedroom. He was about to go back and switch it off, when he noticed Makkachin pawing at something under the sleeping skater’s bed. Surprised, he raised an eyebrow, crouching down to the dog’s level to investigate it himself. He knew that this was wrong, but he just couldn’t resist; his curiosity overwhelmed him. What was it? Why did Makkachin care what it was? What did Yuuri like? What were his interests? Would this help him find out? Who knew? Either way, he’d always been a curious person, so this piqued his interest as a result of that.

“What is it, Makka? What have you found, girl?” he whispered into her ear, tugging at the elusive items. They seemed to be made from paper-oh. They were posters-that made sense. But why take his posters down when Viktor came in? Why not be his own, authentic self? It would have been opportunity to get to know each other further and-

Wait a second. As he pulled them out, he realised exactly why these particular items had caught his eye. All of these posters were of _him._ There was a framed photo down there, too. Wow. Yuuri might idolise him, but Viktor had no idea that he had a fanboy. No wonder he’d come on so strong at the Sochi Grand Prix Final banquet, which he hadn’t brought up yet, funnily enough. He wondered why. Surely, he couldn’t be getting all shy, could he? Not after that little performance. Maybe he was shy, Viktor had no idea-hence, why he was attempting to get to know him better. It looked like he just had done. He found it sweet and endearing how he had posters of him, nothing to be embarrassed about or worthy of hiding away from him. Besides, he’d be lying if he claimed not to have posters of his own.

All of a sudden, he heard a heavy sigh as Yuuri rolled around in bed. Panicking, he quickly shoved the posters back under his bed and prayed that Yuuri wouldn’t notice their displacement in the morning. Makkachin settled back onto his chest and he fell back to sleep, smiling to himself and wondering exactly how Yuuri would react in the morning.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
 _“Viktor!”_

Oh no. So, he knew, he realised as he sat up and blearily registered his surroundings, the light streaming through the windows and the beautiful man in front of his eyes. “Yes, Yuuri?” he asked in his most innocent voice, batting his eyelashes at the younger man in a vain attempt to soften him up slightly.

“Were you going through my stuff last night?” Yuuri asked, standing in front of him with his arms crossed, his glasses askew and his hair rumpled in the most adorable way possible way. Judging by the look on his face, he decided that honesty was the best policy.

“Makkachin kept pawing at something from under the bed, so I thought I’d investigate it, so that she’d stop scratching around down there. In case it disturbed you,” Viktor explained, half-lying. He didn’t tell Yuuri about his insatiable curiosity, his fascination with him. He’d deem it creepy, perhaps, or weird.

“But those posters were under my bed for a reason!” Yuuri protested, red in the face. “I didn’t want you to see them, in case you thought I was a weirdo. And now, you do.”

Viktor shook his head so fast, Yuuri was surprised that it didn’t detach from his neck. “No, I don’t, Yuuri, not at all! Why would you think that? There’s nothing weird about having a role model. Truth be told, I’m a little flattered. I know many of my fans have stuff like this, but you’re a fellow ice skater. It’s you, so it’s different by default. Believe me, I _like_ the fact that you have my posters up. It’s sweet.”

Yuuri looked shocked. “It is?” he spluttered. Viktor reassured him with a nod and a smile. He stood up himself, moving in close to Yuuri, placing a hand under his chin and another on his cheek. Yuuri turned tomato red in an instant.

“Yes, it is. And, to be honest with you, I have some of your posters, too, Yuuri.”

Now, this he found impossible to believe. “Wh-What?!” No, he couldn’t be hearing right, he couldn’t possibly-could he? At this, Viktor chuckled and let go of his face, stepping away and opening up his suitcase to reveal a stack of posters of him, some of which were cut out from ice skating magazines, others being official posters. He gasped. No way. This wasn’t real. He pinched his arm, and winced in pain. Nope, he definitely wasn’t dreaming.

This was real. Wow. He couldn’t believe it. Right there in Viktor Nikiforov’s suitcase, was a pile of posters that had his face on them. It was beyond belief. His jaw dropped. Noticing this, Viktor smirked. “See? Owning posters of a fellow ice skater isn’t embarrassing, Yuuri.”

Oh. He let out a laugh, relieved. “Well, that’s reassuring to hear. I’ve always been a big fan of yours, Viktor.”

The older man smiled at him softly. “I know that now, and I’ve got to say. I’m a big fan, too.”

Viktor had no idea how ecstatic it made Yuuri to hear that. Struggling to articulate his thoughts and feelings on the matter, Yuuri hugged him, and a surprised Viktor soon hugged him back. “Now,” his coach declared when they broke away from the embrace, rubbing his hands together to indicate that he meant business, “let’s get going. We’ve got some work to do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking your time reading this, I appreciate it! Sorry if it's formatted weirdly or isn't my best work, it is a bit rushed so I apologise for that. Anyway, have a wonderful day and thanks for your support! :)


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